Away From This Place
by BehrBeMine
Summary: Simon's only escape.


Title: Away From This Place  
Author: BehrBeMine  
Feedback: Please?  
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Don't sue, I'll cry. ;p  
Summary: Simon's only escape.  
Rating: PG-13  
Distribution: Just please let me know and we'll be good.  
Classification: Simon; Simon's thoughts; Simon's dreams  
Spoilers: This season so far.  
Warning: Dark, especially for a '7th Heaven' fic.  
Author's Note: This is my first '7th Heaven' fic. Tell me, is it too repetitive? I did that for a reason, but does the effect work? Is it too vague? Do you really **feel** what I'm saying? Tell me.

- -  
Short, quick breaths rasp from her throat, as your mouth explores her entirely. Kisses on her cheeks, on her forehead, on her closed eyelids; roaming hands, on her shoulders, on her oh-so-flat stomach, on her legs. Her upper thighs. You feel her entirely, because you need to forget. Forget. Forget. You get lost in this moment, in the ecstasy that you know is going to come.

--

Car lights, in the darkness. Your car speeding by the streets, the buildings on either side of the street a blur. Your foot feels right on the pedal, the steering wheel fitting comfortably in your hands. No one's around. There's just eternal black.

--

You rip your mind from that memory and concentrate once more on the young woman below you on the hotel bed. "You two are doing it?" a college classmate had asked, patting you on the back wholeheartedly. "Good for you, man."

Good for you.

--

You're a good driver. You have confidence in yourself. You think back on your life as you drive, from the little boy who wanted a dog more than anything in the world, to this young man, who doesn't know what he wants. Or what he doesn't want. Your head feels heavy; your eyes are tired. You keep your focus on the road.

--

She gasps beneath you, as you lick along the side of her neck. You then plant slow, gentle kisses all the way from her collarbone to her chin. Gentle and slow. As if you love her. You feel nothing for her. You feel nothing. That's your high, what you've been searching for. What you can't go on further without. For the first time since the accident, you're feeling the way you need to be.

--

You don't hear the screaming as the car hits something with a _bang_. You immediately slam your foot on the pedal, stalling the car. You rush out, and stifle an anguished sob as you see the crippling scene before you. A boy, much younger than you, lays bleeding on the ground, his bike thrown about a foot away. He's on the street, on the black pavement, a small mass of colors amid all the dark.

You feel lost. The boy, the child you have run over, he's silent. Unconscious. He doesn't cry, doesn't scream, doesn't try to speak out about the pain he must have suffered with the collision. Strangely, this bothers you, not hearing his pain. It scares you. What if he never wakes up?

--

You feel lost. Lost in this woman, lost in the motions you're going through together, motions that your father would frown upon. That your entire family would see as being bad. Because it's done before marriage, before you receive some meaningless certificate and change her last name. But... you feel good. You feel safe. You feel no regret. You feel like you're going to Hell, but maybe that's okay.

--

A tear runs down your cheek as you run your hands roughly through your hair, cupping your head in a way that brings you pain. Your hands, glued tightly to the back of a head that houses a brain that didn't see a child in the street.

(I didn't see him, okay? I didn't see him!)

--

There are no tears here tonight. Just moans and grasping at one another, trying to become closer, as close as possible. Bodies melding together, like in a poem, except one with no feeling. No joy, no bliss, no pain. Just this feeling of being truly lost in another person. You finally let go. For those few short minutes while your orgasm tears your body apart, you let go. You are free as a bird. You are flying. You are empty.

You are everything that you shouldn't be. The only thing that you can live with. You are a killer, but right now, you are nothing. Nothing. And that's what keeps you alive, what keeps you from picking up a knife and slicing it through your wrist, from swallowing a bottle of pills, from praying for redemption. You cannot be redeemed. Killers go to Hell, don't they? You're well on your way.

Go ahead. Lose yourself completely. Turn into someone that, when you look in the mirror, you don't recognize. Satisfy yourself with earthly pleasures, and deny the fact that you can never, never forget.

Live in this moment, while it lasts. Become one with this moment. And be free.

- -  
end


End file.
